


Recalibration

by Hyliian



Series: Adrift [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Barnes-centric, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dehumanization, Gen, How Do I Tag, Interrogation, It's The Winter Soldier, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Original Character Death(s), Runes are Overpowered, The Asset Does Not Approve of Magic, Time Travel, Voldemort is a Manipulative Dark Lord, What Did You Expect, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyliian/pseuds/Hyliian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Asset had been without a handler for four days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes and fifteen seconds. A newspaper it had found in a bin seemed to suggest that it had not only relocated itself physically, but temporally as well, seeing as how the last time its handler had removed it from cryostasis had been 2011, not 1980.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recalibration

The Asset had been without a handler for four days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes and fifteen seconds. It had been without orders for four days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes and twenty-four seconds. It had been waiting for Hydra to collect it for four days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds. 

The Asset had never been left on its own for this long. There were protocols in place to be followed if it were somehow separated from its handler, but there had been no extraction, no operatives collecting it from where it had hidden itself, no response from the trackers it knew were buried in the wiring of the Arm.

It had opened the Arm to check the viability of the trackers, and everything had appeared to be working correctly. It knew enough about the Arm to make repairs should it be damaged in the field, and it had been awake for all of the operations and maintenance performed upon it. That no one had tracked it through the Arm meant either the entirety of Hydra had collapsed— _probability: 3.47%_ —or the Arm was damaged in a way it was not sufficiently equipped to detect— _probability: 25.83%._

The Asset performed several maintenance routines to gauge the Arm’s functionality, and it performed to sufficient levels. None of its limbs were nonfunctional, and the broken ribs had healed two days, three hours, forty-six minutes and eight seconds ago within a reasonable time frame. It was not insufficiently fed or hydrated, having acquired rations for itself when the handler did not arrive within the window specified by protocol.

The Asset had performed reconnaissance three days, twelve hours, four minutes and fifty-three seconds ago and noted that it appeared to have been relocated to London while it was nonoperational. It was not the first time its handlers had moved the Asset while it was not functioning, but the probability that this was not the work of a handler was 87.64%. A newspaper it had found in a bin seemed to suggest that it had not only relocated itself physically, but temporally as well, seeing as how the last time its handler had removed it from cryostasis had been 2011, not 1980. 

The Asset had been functional in the previous 1980 for four months, fourteen days, thirty-two minutes and eighteen seconds performing missions the specifics of which it had not been permitted to remember. It was 97.31% positive that none of those missions had been located in Europe, as its handlers at the time had been focused almost exclusively on Central America.

The Asset had been without a handler for exactly five days when it decided that the protocols in place were insufficient, and that waiting further for a handler to arrive was illogical. The longer it remained here waiting, the higher the chance of discovery by an unaffiliated third party or a hostile organization. There were no protocols in place for it to follow now, but the Asset had been hardwired to protect itself and keep itself operational in the absence of further orders.

Remaining here would be counterproductive to its new _Directive: Preservation of Asset_. It swiftly left the abandoned building it had been waiting in and set out to gather as much information about its surroundings as possible. It could not protect itself adequately without knowledge of its situation, and if it were to remain intact for the inevitable extraction by Hydra it would have to educate itself outside of the routine parameters. 

The Asset experienced a sensation that it catalogued as _uncertainty_ before it let the feeling fade. It was useless and distracting. It was not built to feel.

The sensation persisted for the following two hours and thirteen minutes, exactly long enough to witness a man in a black dress wave a stick at a young woman and take control of her mind.

\---

The Asset followed the man in the dress from the rooftop into an alleyway, where he proceeded to instruct the young woman to disrobe herself. She obeyed with admirable obedience, and the Asset wondered if the man in the dress worked for Hydra as well. It decided the likelihood was low enough to not risk exposing itself, and watched further.

Four minutes and seven seconds after the man in the dress had led the woman into the alley, the sharp rapport of a car backfiring—easy enough to differentiate from a gunshot at such close range—broke the silence moments before four other men in red dresses arrived out of the air.

The Asset immediately went into crisis mode, ducking back behind the ledge of the roof and training the scope of the handgun it had salvaged two days, four hours, seven minutes and eight seconds ago at the new arrivals. Cloaking technology? No, the Asset decided after scanning the men. They were not carrying any weapons at all—civilians?—yet were aiming sticks at the man in the black dress while the young woman watched blankly, not responding. Her discipline was impressive to the Asset.

The Asset watched as lights shot from the sticks and it immediately categorized them as the weapons they apparently were. The lights did little to no damage to the walls of the alley, but the man in black robes created a shield of some kind around himself regardless. The lights were damaging only to organic tissue, the Asset hypothesized. It could understand the appeal of a weapon that left no marks on the surroundings, yet was harmful to the target. Of course, the Asset never left collateral damage unless it was specified in the mission, but for a less-skilled operative the stick weapons may be efficient.

One of the lights made it past the shield and struck the man in the black dress, causing ropes to sprout from nothingness to surround the target. A second light hit the target and the man collapsed as if dead. The Asset checked, and saw the target still breathing. A light that caused instant unconsciousness? A light that created from nothing?

The Asset lifted its gun and fired four times. All the men in red robes dropped to the ground with holes in their left eyes. The Asset quickly scaled down the building and landed amongst the bodies of the men in robes, making quick work of searching the ones in red. It came away with four stick weapons which it wrapped carefully in a strip of dress it’d torn from one of the targets. It did not know how they worked yet, and discharging one on itself by accident would be counterproductive.

Hydra would be interested in them.

One of the men had a pouch full of what looked to be gold coins, which the Asset also pocketed. None of them were carrying conventional ID, which it supposed made sense if they were meant to be covert operatives. The man in black robes was still unconscious, and the Asset took his stick weapon and pouch of coins as well. Then it crouched and broke the man’s neck, not willing to leave witnesses. The woman who had been placidly watching until this moment jerked in place at the man’s death, and the Asset swiftly moved to her side and covered her mouth and nose with its metal hand and smothered her until she lost consciousness, whereupon it silenced her. 

No one was allowed to know the Asset had been here. It stripped the bodies and piled them together, taking the odd dresses and burying them underneath several layers of refuse in a nearby bin. It noticed a tattoo of a skull and a snake on the left forearm of the man who had been wearing black. The Asset stopped to contemplate it. 

The tattoo was moving. 

It crouched to study the mark further, and the snake seemed to react to its presence by baring fangs and hissing silently at the Asset. This was not logical. The tattoo was not a hologram, because it felt like skin when the Asset touched it with its flesh hand. The newspaper believed the date to be 1980. This technology did not exist in 1980. It did not exist in 2011, either. 

The Asset withdrew a salvaged blade and removed the man’s arm at the elbow. The tattoo did not stop moving when separated from the body. The snake did stop hissing, however, and simply stared at the Asset instead. 

It took the arm with it after wrapping it with the stick weapons. Hydra would want to know about the moving tattoo. 

The Asset retreated up the building and began searching for a place to recharge. It would need to consider its options now that it knew of the existence of the stick weapons. It would need to find a way around the ability to cause instant unconsciousness. It was less concerned about the ropes—they had been plain and easy enough to tear when it’d stripped the man in the black dress. 

It extrapolated that the ropes were not the only things the stick weapons could create from nothingness. Experimentation would be required.

\---

The stick weapons were incomprehensible to the Asset. They would not function and served as little more than decorative branches. The Asset decided the stick weapons were locked to certain bio signatures and would not function for non-authorized personnel. It approved of the concept, but was displeased that this meant it could not operate the weapons itself.

The tattoo of the snake continued to watch the Asset as it studied it. Removing the skin around the tattoo did not make it cease movement, even though it was now utterly unconnected to anything resembling a power source. The Asset disposed of the rest of the arm. Oddly, the snake tattoo seemed less hostile towards the Asset once it removed it from the man’s arm. 

The Asset set the skinned tattoo near the stick weapons and ran scenarios through its mind. At the moment it did not have adequate protection against the stick weapons’ capabilities, and could not operate them itself. It knew the operatives who wielded them were not immune to bullets or brute force, and extrapolated that they would therefore not be immune to blades either. Reassured that these new enemies were not invincible, the Asset wrapped the stick weapons and the snake tattoo back in the piece of dress and hid them underneath a loose floorboard of the abandoned building.

It memorized the location and mentally decided it would tell the handlers of this location when it was retrieved. 

\---

A car backfired on the roof the Asset had been resting on. The Asset put a bullet through the head of the masked man in the black dress which had appeared out of thin air. The body crumpled.

The Asset crouched by the corpse and frisked it, finding another stick weapon and another pouch of coins. There was also a blue button, which did not match anything the man was wearing. The Asset lifted the button with its metal hand and felt it vibrate oddly. A car backfired again. The Asset broke the neck of the new arrival before it had a chance to orient itself.

The Asset stared at the button suspiciously before dropping it. It decided the button was a tracking device of some sort which it had activated by touching. It took the stick weapon and coin pouch off the second corpse but didn’t bother stripping them. They were on a roof; the chances of officials discovering them here was low.

Both corpses had moving snake tattoos on their left forearms. It removed both of them for comparative study and wrapped them in a strip of sleeve.

The Asset quickly traveled to a new location to regroup.

The men in dresses were capable of instantaneous teleportation. This would make it difficult to capture one and interrogate them for information on using the stick weapons. The Asset decided to apprehend the next man in a dress that teleported near it for questioning.

It removed the snake tattoos and set them side by side on the ground. They hissed at each other, but stared silently at the Asset. The Asset felt compelled to pick up the tattoo on the right and carry it with it. It buried the piece of skin under a roof tile instead. No such compulsion followed from the tattoo on the left, so the Asset wrapped it back up and tucked it away for further study.

\----

The next man who teleported near the Asset was wearing a red dress. This did not stop the Asset from knocking the man unconscious from behind. The Asset removed the stick weapon and the coin pouch, as well as three vials of varying colors containing unidentified liquids. The Asset would question the captive on their purpose.

While the man was unconscious, the Asset struck its metal fingers against his neck and broke the C2 vertebrae. This would ensure the captive did not attempt to teleport away, unless he was capable of doing so without the use of his arms and legs. If this was the case, the Asset would revise its methods for the next captive.

The Asset was not worried about being recognized should the captive escape. The Asset was sufficiently masked, and the protective goggles would prevent conclusive identification in the future.

The Asset placed the man in a chair it had procured for this moment and tied it securely to the arm rests and back. It then proceeded to wake the captive.

The captive woke screaming. He did not teleport away.

The Asset covered the captive’s face with its metal hand to stop the screaming. It waited patiently for the captive to silence himself.

“Identify,” the Asset ordered, holding up the man’s stick weapon. The captive’s eyes bulged. If the captive had been capable of movement, he might have lunged towards the Asset. The captive said nothing, seeming more fearful than he had been prior to the Asset displaying the stick weapon. 

The Asset untied the captive’s right arm and lifted it. It drew its salvaged blade and waited for the captive to notice. When it had the captive’s attention, the Asset removed the captive’s right thumb. It was unsure if this would be felt, but the captive screamed regardless. 

“Identify,” the Asset repeated, holding the stick weapon in its flesh hand. 

“It’s my wand!” the captive screamed, wild eyes fixed on the steadily bleeding stump where his thumb had been. The Asset rewarded his compliance by staunching the blood flow. 

“Clarify: purpose of the wand.”

“It—it’s to cast spells!” the captive shouted, sobbing and hysterical. The Asset clinically identified the captive as being very young and inadequately trained. 

“Define: usage of the word spells.”

“Magic!” the captive shuddered, eyes roiling away from his thumb and locking on the exposed metal of the Arm. “You use wands to cast magic.”

Magic was illogical. The Asset decided the man simply believed he was utilizing magic when he was, in fact, actually simply a super-human making use of a newfound internalized energy source. This would explain why the Asset was unable to use the wand as a weapon, as it lacked the proper super-human ability to do so. 

The Asset lifted the three vials. “Identify.”

“T-the clear one’s veritaserum,” the captive stammered. “The r-red one’s a blood replenisher, and the b-blue one’s a calming draught.”

The Asset mentally translated the butchered Latin. A truth serum? The Asset was dubious. 

“Clarify: how to administer veritaserum.”

“T-three drops,” the captive sobbed, eyes squeezed shut. 

The Asset clamped its metal hand around the man’s jaw and forced his mouth open. The Asset administered three drops of the clear vial. The probability of the clear vial being a poison instead of a truth serum was 79.21%. Acceptable.

The captive’s face went slack and his eyes glazed over. The Asset checked, and the captive was still breathing.

“Identify: name and organization.”

“Henry MacDougal, Auror, Ministry of Magic,” came the prompt, emotionless reply.

The Asset glanced at the clear vial. “Clarify: what is the Ministry of Magic.”

“The Ministry is the governing body of the Wizarding World in Great Britain.”

“Clarify: what is the Wizarding World.”

“The hidden territories and homesteads of the witches and wizards of Earth.”

“Clarify: how are they hidden.”

“There are wards around the properties and alleys which prevent muggles from seeing them.”

“Define: muggle.”

“A non-magical human being.”

The Asset greatly approved of this truth serum. It increased the Asset’s effectiveness at interrogation by 97%. It removed the tattoo from its pocket and unwrapped it. It showed the captive the tattoo, which hissed and spat at the bound man.

“Identify: moving tattoo.”

Glazed eyes widened slightly, showing whites. “The Dark Mark, the sign of a marked follower of You-Know-Who.”

The Asset was not impressed. “Identify: You-Know-Who.”

“The Dark Lord V-Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” That the captive stuttered even while under a truth serum indicated that this was a very feared person indeed.

“Query: how a non-magical may defend itself against magic.” The Asset was aware that magic existed extra-terrestrially. It would not discount the fact that it may exist on Earth as well.

“You’d need a runic ward,” the captive slurred, eyes clearing slightly. “Anchored to something inorganic that’s always on your person. A wizard would have to apply it.”

“Query: are you capable of performing this ward?”

“N-no,” the man gritted his teeth, fighting to answer now. The Asset debated dosing him again. “I only g-got an A-acceptable in Runes at H-hogwarts.”

“Clarify: who can apply this ward.”

“R-rune M-masters,” the captive gasped for breath and his eyes cleared.

The Asset studied the trembling captive dispassionately as it considered its options. Locating a Rune Master to apply the protective ward was now _Priority One_ , right behind _Directive: Preservation of Asset_. It speculated that the coins it had been liberating from the men in dresses—wizards—were the equivalent of magical currency. Perhaps it could use them in trade for services.

The snake tattoo hissed. The Asset felt compelled to place it upon the left forearm of the man in the chair. The Asset considered. It put the skin on the man’s forearm, ignoring the captive’s horrified exclamation as he caught sight of it properly.

The tattoo glowed green. It fused with the captive’s flesh. The captive slumped in his binds, eyes empty. The tattoo stopped moving.

The Asset considered. The tattoo glowed green. The captive died. The tattoo was magic. The tattoo caused instantaneous death. Magic could cause instantaneous death. The magic that caused instantaneous death was bright green.

The Asset noted to itself to be especially wary of all green magic.

It left the captive where it lay tied to a chair, retreating out the door to find more information. It needed to locate an entrance to the Wizarding World, and then find a Rune Master willing to apply the necessary protection.

\----

The Asset had located a possible entrance. Getting near the door to the tavern no one else seemed to see and that it had slight trouble focusing on caused the Arm to malfunction. Reaction time of the Arm dropped by 24% when it stepped within five feet of the door to _Target: Leaky Cauldron_. Stepping five feet one inch away from the door left the Arm with full functionality. The brief periods of malfunction did not seem to leave lasting damage to the Arm.

The Asset calculated the risk of temporary loss of function to the Arm against the possibility of locating a Rune Master for _Priority One_. The risk was acceptable. 

The Asset waited for nightfall before scaling the building which caused the Arm to malfunction. The Arm dropped in functionality by precisely 24%. It performed maintenance routines to gauge the full range of motion available to it and calibrated accordingly. Functionality of the Arm rose by 13%. Acceptable.

The Asset crouched on the roof and stared out over the revealed area. Staring directly at the area in front of it caused its eyes to malfunction, so it unfocused its eyes and gazed in the general direction of the area instead. Its eyes returned to full functionality. 

Error. 

The area in front of the Asset was a collection of rooftops and chimneys. The area in front of the Asset was an open alleyway which blurred when focused on directly. Error.

The Asset stopped. Recalibrated. The plates on the Arm whirred quietly. Functionality down by 11%. The Asset refocused.

The area in front of the Asset was an open alleyway. The sight did not blur when focused on directly. Acceptable.

The Asset kept to the rooftops as it stepped out into the newly revealed alleyway. Functionality of the Arm dropped an additional 5%. It stopped. Recalibrated. The Arm returned to previous functionality. The Asset moved on.

The storefronts it could see in the newly revealed alley were all closed. There were no visible civilians. The Asset moved on.

A side alley revealed itself when the Asset unfocused its eyes again. Stepping near it reduced the functionality of the Arm by another 5%. The Asset recalibrated. Functionality returned. There were civilians in the side alley. They were all in dark colors, and most of them looked like petty criminals.

The Asset had a distant thought that this was a remarkable cliché. The Asset ignored the thought. It was unimportant. The Asset watched the civilians. All of them had stick weapons—wands. Two of them had knives poorly hidden under their clothes. All of them wore dresses. 

One of them had claws. Three others had sharp teeth. Two of them were short and hunched over. The others avoided those. 

Error. Not enough data.

The Asset moved on. 

It located a man wearing a black dress who was much cleaner than his surroundings. He sneered at the others in the alley and looked down his nose at them. He walked like he owned everything around him. His pouch of coins was tied outside his robes, and made noise when he walked. He would make a good target for information.

The Asset gauged the surrounding civilians. None of them looked favorably upon the target. One of the ones with teeth hissed at the man, and earned a shot of purple light that he dodged inhumanly swift in return. The Asset reassigned the ones with teeth as being possibly enhanced.

The Asset calculated distance and force. It stepped off the roof when the target passed beneath it and landed cat-quiet behind the target. None of the civilians surrounding him reacted. The Asset struck out with the Arm and the man fell to the ground. The Asset bent and removed the coin pouch, tossing it off to the side where one of the ones with sharp teeth darted in and snatched it. A fight ensued over who would get to keep the pouch.

The Asset slung the target over its shoulder and stalked off in the chaos. No one stopped them.

\----

The Asset stripped the target, locating a stick weapon and another, smaller pouch that the Asset could not open. The target had a snake tattoo. The tattoo did not hiss at the Asset when it was revealed.

The Asset restrained the target and prevented it from teleporting away in the proven manner. The Asset decided the way in which the tattoo seemed to smirk at him was illogical, and ignored it.

The Asset roused the target. The target woke screaming. The Asset silenced the target in the proven manner and waited for the target to be silent. It took five minutes twenty-four seconds longer than it had taken the auror. The Asset was not impressed.

When the target stopped screaming, the Asset produced the veritaserum. The target panicked. 

“Do you know who I am?!” the target demanded, hysterical. The Asset was even less impressed. The target noticed, and began to bluster. “Filthy mudblood! The Dark Lord will—”

The Asset clamped the Arm over the target’s face and squeezed lightly. Lightly for the Asset was still strong enough to crush steel. The target screamed, but stopped attempting to intimidate the Asset. The Asset administered the proper dosage of veritaserum.

“Query: where to find a Rune Master available for illegal services.”

“Ancient Artifacts, at the end of Knockturn. The proprietor is an uncertified Rune Master.” Even through the truth serum the target seemed surprised at the question. The Asset did not particularly care.

The Asset considered instructing the target to define: mudblood, but there was a 96% chance it was simply an inaccurate racial slur. It dismissed the question.

“Identify: name and organization.”

“Thaddeus Nott, Department of Creature Regulation, Ministry of Magic. Death Eater.” The target seemed anxious at having revealed the last. The Asset connected it to the snake tattoo which was still watching it. 

“Clarify: Death Eater.”

“A devoted follower of the Dark Lord,” the target explained, even more nervous. He was sweating even through the serum. 

“Identify: dark mark.”

“The method with which the Dark Lord summons his followers.”

The Asset mentally recalibrated. “Query: the Dark Lord communicates through tattoos?”

The target seemed to struggle with this, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer. The Asset watched as the target fought the truth serum for an answer he didn’t have. The Asset watched with interest as the target began to froth at the mouth.

“Command: disregard last question.”

The target stopped, panting. The haze had cleared from his eyes a little. 

“Identify: list of spells and their effects that would not be blocked by the work of a Rune Master.”

This, the target seemed more relieved to answer. “Avada Kedavra, the killing curse—instant death. It’s bright green. Imperius, the controlling curse—total control of the target’s body. It’s dark purple. Cruciatus, the torture curse—incredible, unstoppable pain. It’s dark red.” At this, the target stopped.

The Asset cocked its head. It surmised that the killing curse was the green that the tattoo used to kill the auror. The Asset wondered if the Death Eater was aware that the dark mark was capable of killing him. This, though, pleased the Asset. That there were only three spells that would get through the Rune Master’s work—even if they appeared to be incredibly dangerous spells—was encouraging.

Though, that did raise another pertinent question.

“Query: why do all magicals not make use of a Rune Master’s ward to avoid hostile attacks?”

“Because the ward doesn’t discriminate between magic. It would make you immune to hostile magic, but it’d also block healing spells and prevent the use of magical items and render potions useless. The ward itself has to be placed on an object that is in constant contact with your body; the moment it is removed, the ward becomes inert forever. It’s a soul-spell that can only be cast on a person once in their entire life, so putting it on something that will just get taken off at some point when potions or healing spells will be necessary isn’t worth it.”

The Asset considered the information. The ward seemed to have no downsides. The Asset did not require healing spells, and did not trust potions. Veritaserum was something it would very much like to be immune to, considering what it did, and if the ward to keep it protected from attacks also rendered potions inert…

The Asset would have smiled, if that had been within its programming.

“Query,” the Asset finally added after a minute of contemplative silence, and after the truth serum had worn off. “Are you aware that the dark mark is able to cause instantaneous death?”

“What?” the target had enough time to say before the snake tattoo flared to life and glowed bright green. The target slumped, dead. The tattoo became inanimate.

The Asset’s lip twitched beneath its mask.

\----

_Target: Ancient Artifacts_ was only identifiable by the faded gold lettering on the broken window. The Asset studied the entrance from its perch on the rooftop across the street and considered its options. There was a light on in the store, which suggested it may still be open. There were also two men with sharp teeth lingering near the door.

The Asset had been watching them through the scope on its gun for ten minutes. Neither had noticed. Both displayed above-human strength and speed. Both displayed normal human reflexes and poor situational awareness. They were inferior to the Asset in every way.

The Asset had not completed as many missions as it had by being unintelligent.

The Asset watched as a third man with sharp teeth approached the two by the door. All three began posturing for dominance. It was pathetic. One of them swung a punch at another that missed and hit the wall. The wall cracked and the man was unharmed. The Asset recalibrated. 

Threat Level: Low.

The Asset dropped to the street. All three turned to look at him. The Asset moved towards the entrance, letting the blade fall into its flesh hand.

The three moved towards him, saying something in a language the Asset was not proficient in. The tone was antagonistic. One of them reached out to touch it, inhuman-fast. The Asset was faster.

The Arm crunched into the man’s sternum hard enough to shove ribs into lungs and pulverize a human heart. The man slammed twenty feet back and broke through a storefront wall. The other two froze, staring. The Asset did not stop moving towards _Target: Ancient Artifacts_. 

They did not attempt to stop it again.

It was dimly lit inside the store. There was an older man hunched behind the counter wearing regular clothing. This was the first wizard the Asset had seen that was not in a dress. The Asset approved.

The old man looked up at the Asset. His expression did not change at the sight of the mask, goggles, or the Arm. The Asset approved further. 

“What can I do for you, young man?” the old wizard asked in a hoarse voice.

Inaccurate. The Asset was not young. It was aware that its usual method of interacting with civilians would not be sufficient to exchange goods and services. 

“It requires a ward against magic,” the Asset informed the man, letting its Russian accent thicken enough to be audible. Letting the civilian assume English was not its first language would make the civilian favorable to overlooking any grammatical proclivities the Asset could not deprogram from itself.

The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Aside from that, his face did not change. “The Null Ward?” the man clarified. “You’re aware that potions and healing spells won’t work for you anymore? That you won’t ever be able to pick up a wand and have it work for you?”

“It does not require a wand, and it does not trust potions,” the Asset informed the man.

The man’s face cracked into a grim, manic sort of smile. The Asset recognized it from its handlers and the doctors which worked on the Arm. “A _muggle_? In Knockturn Alley?” the civilian cackled with laughter. The Asset remained unmoved, standing five feet from the counter with the naked blade in its flesh hand. The civilian calmed himself and came around the counter. He was two heads shorter than the Asset and stood hunched at the shoulders. “Marvelous,” the man crowed. “Simply marvelous. How did you sneak past the wards, young man?”

“It recalibrated,” the Asset replied. The civilian matched the profile of a handler by 87%. Answering the civilian’s questions would not interfere with protocols so long as nothing classified was requested.

The civilian’s eyes sharpened and lingered on the Arm. “So the muggle government’s finally catching on, eh?” There was a 75% chance that the question was rhetorical. The Asset remained silent and let the civilian draw his own conclusions. “Excellent. It’s about time something happened to wake up the sheep.”

The civilian gestured with a crooked hand to a door behind the counter. 

“Come on, boy. Let old Tiberius fix you up.”

The Asset followed and was led to a low table surrounded by floating candles.

“What do you want your Null Ward inscribed on, boy?” the civilian croaked, sifting through a mug full of needles and a few jars of ink. 

“The Arm,” the Asset replied. It was the most logical choice available. It was an inorganic thing that was always in constant contact with its body, and it could not be removed without causing critical damage to the Asset’s nerves and spine. If the Arm was lost, the Asset would be crippled worse than what a loss of the ward would imply.

The civilian studied the Arm for a moment, before grinning the handler’s smile again. “ _Marvelous_.”

The civilian moved towards the Asset, and the Asset temporarily dialed down its self-defense protocols. It gripped the knife loosely in its flesh hand in case of attack. The civilian noticed, but said nothing. The civilian tapped a small hammer-like tool against the Arm and listened to the noise produced. He then pressed one of the needles to the arm and pushed. The metal did not give.

“This is the strongest metal I’ve ever seen,” the civilian acknowledged, visibly impressed. The Asset agreed. The Arm was impressive. “And I’ve worked with mithril, boy.”

“Can it be done?” the Asset inquired.

“Oh yes,” the civilian reassured, grinning again. “I’ll just need to bring out the special tools. Don’t go telling the aurors I’ve got these, eh?” The civilian picked up a long black needle as if it were a live snake. “A splinter from the rib of a nundu. If this won’t mark that arm of yours, nothing will.”

The needle worked. The civilian crowed in triumph and set to work.

The procedure took four hours. The Asset did not move or speak until the civilian lifted the needle and stepped back, visibly exhausted. It turned to stare at the Arm, lifting it to the light. 

The ward was a series of red bands around the bicep of the Arm filled with incomprehensible runes and symbols that made its eyes malfunction if focused on directly. The Asset recalibrated. Functionality returned. There was a ring of similar red symbols around the star on its shoulder that glowed faintly. 

“Care to put it to the test, boy?” the civilian rasped, lifting a stick weapon. The Asset stood, blade held loosely in its flesh hand. 

The stick weapon was flicked in its direction. The light was a soft blue. It struck the Asset and flowed off of it like water, causing no visible or discernable reaction. The bands on the Arm glowed the same blue as the light, before fading when the spell dissipated. The bands were now invisible. Only the red runes around the star remained. 

“It’ll stay invisible when there’s no active magic touching you,” the civilian informed the Asset, making a glass appear with a flick of the stick weapon—wand—and filling it likewise with water. The civilian took a sip. “The ones around your star anchor the ward to your soul; they’ll be there as long as that thing is attached to you. Only magic that will still affect you now are the Unforgivables. Make sure you dodge those, boy.”

The Asset speculated that the Unforgivables were the three spells the Death Eater had specified earlier. Acceptable.

The Asset produced the pouch of coins it had taken from the targets which had come after it. It set the pouch on the table in front of the man and watched him open it. The man waved his stick at the pouch and a number floated in the air above it. The man nodded at the number and tucked the pouch away, satisfied. 

The Asset was pleased. It had fulfilled _Priority One_. The Rune Master would be a valuable asset to retain, so it refrained from terminating him. It might need more rune work done in the future if its handlers never located it.

“Pleasure doing business with you, boy,” the civilian grinned toothily at the Asset. “Feel free to come again.”

The Asset would be sure to do so when further work was required.

\----

Protected now against Earth-magic, the Asset left the alley and returned to London. Functionality of the Arm returned to 100%. It recalibrated accordingly and began searching out a place to stay. 

A soft sound had the Asset snapping around, gun aimed at the disturbance even as an opaque purple shield locked into place around the figure. It was far quieter than the loud crack the others used to teleport, and the instant-shield raised far eclipsed the others’ reaction times.

The Asset kept the gun aimed at the figure, but did not fire at the shield. The shield it had seen used in the alley had reflected the spells sent at it. It stood to reason that this one would do likewise to a bullet, and the Asset did not have sufficient ammunition to waste if such a thing were to happen.

The figure was in black clothing with a dark cloak instead of a dress. He held a white wand loosely in his hand aimed at the ground, and he had bright red eyes beneath a head of black hair. He had a handler’s smile and a doctor’s eyes.

“Identify,” the Asset demanded, the plates on the Arm whirring as it recalibrated, readying for combat. It was uncertain if it could physically break through the shield, but the Asset doubted the man could keep the shield up indefinitely. The Asset could afford to outwait him.

The figure studied the Arm with a strange, hungry expression before it smoothed out into congenial compliance. The Asset was not fooled, but could appreciate the skill the figure wielded. He would make a satisfactory undercover operative. 

“Call me Lord Slytherin,” the figure commanded. There was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

The Asset mentally paused. It recalibrated. It had been without a handler for eight days, sixteen hours, twenty-seven minutes and three seconds. This figure had a handler’s smile, a doctor’s eyes, and The Director’s voice. He was magical, so the probability of him being with Hydra was only 1.53%. The Asset felt protocols being activated and disabled in rapid fashion as it attempted to find a reasonable compromise.

“Acknowledged,” the Asset replied. Lord Slytherin was not a handler, or a doctor, or The Director, but he was the first thing that had sufficient authority to assign orders. In absence of a handler or a mission, and as long as they did not interfere with _Directive: Preservation of Asset_ , there would be no internal conflict. 

“You’ve killed four of my Death Eaters,” Lord Slytherin began, stalking in a small circle around the Asset. The shield moved with him. It tracked him with the gun. The Asset reassigned him as _Lord Slytherin: Dark Lord Voldemort_. The authority now made more sense, as did the stutter in the auror’s truth-serumed voice. “No great loss, of course. They were expendable.”

The Asset agreed. None of them had great skill or experience. The most recent, Nott, had been the most pathetic.

“You, though…” Lord Slytherin paused in front of the Asset, hungry eyes roving over the Asset. It was used to this expression, and did not lower the gun. “Whose dog are you, I wonder?”

Error. Information classified. 

Lord Slytherin smoothly moved on, as if the thought had been broadcasted aloud despite the mask and protective goggles shielding an emotionless face. “A muggle attack dog,” Lord Slytherin mused, eyes lingering on the faint red runes on the Arm, “armed with muggle weapons, ensconced behind a Null-magic bulwark.” Lord Slytherin’s expression turned faintly amused. “You, dog, are the Ministry’s worst nightmare.”

The Asset was every government’s worst nightmare. That this now included magical governments was not entirely surprising. Hydra would be pleased to know their Asset was effective in this strange, hidden world as well. It began compiling a report while it watched Lord Slytherin, gun still trained on his head through a purple shield.

“Lower your weapon,” Lord Slytherin commanded. The Asset lowered the gun, programming kicking in at the authoritative voice and the lack of conflicting orders from a handler. Lord Slytherin smiled slightly, pleased. It was a handler’s smile. The Asset recalibrated. “Good dog.”

The handlers in Russia had called the Asset a dog as well. It was not an inaccurate name. 

“Would your owners rent you out, dog?” Lord Slytherin wondered. “I doubt they come armed with a Null Ward. Perhaps they could be… persuaded to part with your services.”

The Asset was aware that its current handlers would not ‘rent’ it out. It had had past handlers who would, and did, however. That did not change the fact that as Hydra had not contacted it in eight days, they no longer classified as handlers in its programming. The Asset had no handlers, no orders, no missions except for _Directive: Preservation of Asset_. 

Its top priority was fulfilling its directive. Doing so in a time in which it did not belong and a city with which it was not familiar would be difficult without support. The Asset understood that Lord Slytherin would like to become its handler. Lord Slytherin would supply the Asset with rations and likely weapons if it became Lord Slytherin’s Asset instead of Hydra’s. 

From what the Asset had observed in the magical alley, the wizards were far behind the regular world in technology. They likely lacked the machinery necessary to reprogram it. Lord Slytherin would not be able to override _Directive: Preservation of Asset_ , and the Null Ward would stop spells from attempting to do so. Except for the Imperius, which was an Unforgivable, and which the Asset would have avoided on principle. 

Following Lord Slytherin was the most logical choice. It mentally reassigned _Lord Slytherin: Dark Lord Voldemort – Primary Handler_. The Asset holstered the gun and sheathed the blade Lord Slytherin was unaware it had drawn.

Lord Slytherin’s crimson eyes gleamed. The shield flickered away. The Asset did not react, and Lord Slytherin’s handler-grin grew sharper. “Does my new dog have a name?”

The Asset did not have a name. It was simply the Asset. It did, however, have a designation. “Designation: Winter Soldier.”

Lord Slytherin smiled. “Come along, Soldier,” he crooned. “It’s time to go to war.”

**Author's Note:**

> It is incredibly difficult to keep the POV in "it"s instead of "he"s. I probably missed at least one. Oh well.


End file.
